


From The Wild

by NaughtyBees



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Albert has a crush on this big bear man, Anal Sex, Animal Death, Animal Instincts, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual, Family Reunions, Fluff, Happy Ending, Horror, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Canon, Protective Arthur, Rough Sex, Supernatural Elements, Werebear Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28731486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyBees/pseuds/NaughtyBees
Summary: After being saved by a man who's a bear, Albert finds himself utterly besotted with him.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Albert Mason & Arthur Morgan, Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 70





	1. Fur

Wind whispered through the evergreens, warm from the desert, carrying the smell of red dust up into West Elizabeth. Spring brought soft blooms and light greens, the animals taking their place in the circle of death and rebirth. Being out in nature, the only music in the throats of birds, the only straight line being the sides of his camera, Albert Mason felt like he was in his element. Of course, it was dangerous. He did have a penchant for getting into trouble. But it was worth it, to be able to capture the stark beauty of the untamed landscape.

He'd heard word that there was a litter of wolf pups sequestered within the woods, and he'd made it the week's aim to track them down. Of course, defensive she-wolves would be hard to battle, did the need arise, but he would be careful about bait and wind direction.

As his pocket watch ticked to eleven, Albert knelt by his bag and began to pull out his lunch; a cheese sandwich, some apples, some honey loaf, and a little ginger beer. He took a bite of an apple as he looked through his equipment, weighing opinion on lenses.

Freezing in place, Albert heard a fearsome bellow from the woods up the hill and beyond, one he knew belonged to a bear. He gasped, inhaling the chunk of apple in his throat, beginning to cough and hack to get it up again. He was feeling like he was turning blue when he felt a slap on his back, not from a bear, but a human hand. The chunk of apple flew out and into the grass, and he heaved a deep breath, whimpering to himself. "Oh, thank you, oh dear me…" He straightened his vest and turned to look at his rescuer.

The man there was not what he expected, if he expected anything at all. Firstly, he was entirely nude, though his crouch hid that fact. Secondly, his skin was filthy and scarred, like he'd been living in a swamp for a year. And then there were his eyes, stark and concerned, peering almost through him. Albert swallowed thickly and shifted away from the man. "U-Uh… You're _naked_ , sir." He said, pointing out the obvious. "Are you alright? Did you get robbed or something?"

The man kept looking at him, as though he hadn't spoken, and Albert cleared his throat, rummaging through his bag. "Here, I have some spare clothes if you want." He pulled out a pair of underwear and passed them to the man, who took them gingerly, as though worried they'd bite him. "Please, you're making me…unseasonably warm."

The man frowned at them, turning them over in his hands, but soon sighed quietly and pulled them on, finding they were sort of tight. Albert lifted his picnic blanket and wrapped it around the man's shoulders, the least he could do. "There we go. Are you hungry, sir? I've got more than enough to share." He said, gesturing to the food.

Surprisingly, the man began to sniff deeply, like an animal, snuffling toward the honey loaf. He grabbed a handful of it, hardly acknowledging the knife beside it, and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing noisily and licking his whole hand with the breadth of his tongue. Albert was at a loss for words, eyes wide as he stared. He didn't know if he should be afraid or intrigued. "Pardon me for asking, but are you some sort of wild man? I don't mean to cause offence."

The man didn't reply, he simply reached for an apple, easily splitting it in half with his fingers and beginning to crunch down, the juice running down his chin.  
"D-Do you have a name? I'm Albert. Albert Mason."

"Arthur Morgan." The man grunted, more of a growl than anything, and he licked his lips.

"Oh! Well, thank you for saving me, Mr Morgan! What are you doing out here?" Albert asked, wondering if the man was indeed feral.

Arthur licked his hands again, as though washing them. "Hunting." Was all he said.

Albert chuckled softly. "And do you always hunt nude and unarmed?"

"Yes."

Albert shook his head a little as he continued eating. "Strange one, aren't you?" He smiled. Of course he was going to run into people from different walks of life if he was going to be this far into rural America, but if someone saved him, they were fine in his book.

As the man moved to stand, Albert frowned a little. "Oh, you're not leaving?" He asked, a little put out that such an interesting and mysterious man was going to go without Albert getting to know him. But he simply stopped by a tree and began to scratch his back against it, much like a bear would. "...You must have been raised by bears or something… Am I right?"

The man looked at him a little, then continued. Albert sighed and wracked his brains as he packed away his lunch and got out the raw meat he was going to use as bait. "You may have surmised that I'm a photographer, hoping to get some good shots of predators. I'm trying to lure some wolves for this one, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't do anything to frighten them away, or antagonise them." He said as he laid the bait a little away from his camera.

"Wolves?" Arthur asked, standing beside Albert, the blanket picked up again and wrapped around his shoulders.

Albert nodded. "Hopefully that bear I heard won't show up for the meat."

The laugh that came from Arthur startled him, deep and husky. He raised a brow at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He smirked, kneeling by the camera to watch the photographer at work.

As the wolves began to stalk toward the meat, Albert forgot to breathe, grinning at the sight of the wolf pups. They were so cute, and he snapped a few photos as the adult members of the pack began to eat.  
However, when one of them looked at him, it began to snarl, lips pulled back over teeth that made Albert turn grey. "Oh, dear…" He mumbled, backing away.  
Arthur didn't seem too worried, not even as Albert scrambled toward a tree, climbing up onto a branch with a panicked cry.

He turned his head just in time to see a bear, the biggest grizzly he'd ever seen, charging the wolves with a roaring growl. It swiped an enormous paw at the wolves, snapping at their legs, chasing them all away. One of the pups stumbled and the bear stood over it, and Albert whimpered, expecting to see the pup be crunched up in two bites. However, the bear pushed its nose under its backside, helping it to its feet so it could run after its mother.

The bear then turned back toward Albert, and he pulled his legs up onto the branch, knowing the beast could absolutely reach him. He couldn't see Arthur anywhere, and he hoped he'd managed to get away. The bear lumbered toward Albert's bag and stuck its nose in, snuffling until it found the honey loaf, eating it with a great deal of gusto.

"N-No! Get out, shoo!" Albert shouted, waving his arms. "Go away--!" He yelped as he toppled backward out of the tree, hitting the ground with a thump. He groaned, rubbing his neck and hissing.  
He suddenly felt a gust of hot, wet air on his face and he peeled open his eyes, looking into the deep, black eyes of the grizzly. "O-Oh, no… M-Mr Morgan, if you're here, please help me!"

The bear huffed and leant down, grabbing the front of Albert's shirt with its teeth, pulling him to his feet. It nudged his behind with its nose, pushing him toward the camera. Fearful and confused, he stumbled toward his tripod, clinging to it tightly, watching as the bear moved toward the spot the wolves were. It stood in its back legs in a threat display, roaring at Albert, who was trembling so violently he could barely take the photo. When he had snapped it, he swallowed hard and covered his eyes, wishing it would be over.

"Was that okay? Good shot?" Arthur asked, and Albert uncovered his eyes, blinking. He was stood, naked again, where the bear had been.

Albert could barely speak. "I… You… You were the bear?!"

Arthur nodded. "Yeah." He said, picking up the leftover raw meat and taking a bite. "Just woken up from hibernation. Smelled your honey. Thanks for sharing."

Knees wobbling, Albert fell backward, trying to steady himself. "Dear me… That was a lot to happen to one man in such a short timespan." He took a deep breath, rubbing his face. "Right, okay… So, you're a bear?"

"You've already said that." Arthur said as he sat down beside him, still chewing the meat.

Albert nodded. "S-Sorry…" He laughed nervously and laced his hands in his lap to stop himself fiddling with his beard. "You're some kind of magical creature, then?"

"Wasn't born like this. Got bit. Prefer living as a bear than a person." He gestured to a scar over his shoulder, clear teeth marks. "Don't tell anyone, or I'll eat you."

"O-Oh… I won't, I promise…" Albert tried not to whimper. "I don't suppose…" He shuffled a little closer. "I want more photographs of bears, black bears too. If I bring you more honey loaf, would you escort me? If not, I understand."

Arthur shrugged. "Sure." He licked his lips as he finished the meat. "Meet you by Cumberland Falls tomorrow, this time?"

He wasn't expecting Arthur to say yes, and he smiled a lot wider than he intended to. "Alright! Yes, I shall see you then!" He stood up and began to pack away his camera. "Oh, Mr Morgan, I forgot to say…" He turned around, only to see the furry behind of the bear retreating into the woods, and he smiled, thinking he'd need a very good sleep to process everything that had happened.

**oOo**

Albert gave his horse a gentle pat, waiting for Arthur. He'd dreamt about him, that mysterious bear man, and he'd been a little surprised at how strangely romantic they'd been. Both of them beneath the sunlit canopy, closer than they had been when they'd met, rough hands and growls, the other morphing between man or beast. He tried not to dwell on them as he waited.

"Hey there."

Albert started a little and his horse whinnied with fright, the smell of the man stood there making her nervous. "It's okay, girl, it's only Arthur." Albert cooed. As he dismounted and grabbed his bags, his horse took her chance and bolted, galloping away up river. "Oh, no!"

Arthur chuckled slightly. He was wearing clothes this time, a loose blue shirt and dark jeans, complete with a fetching hat. "Sorry about that. We'll find her later."

"It was only a matter of time. Horses despise me." He smiled. "So, where are we going?"

Beckoning Albert, Arthur started walking. "I know some bears."

"Personally?" Albert asked seriously, though it seemed to strike a chord with the other man.

"I know of them." Arthur said with an amused twang. "I'm big for a bear, so if any get aggressive, I'll help. Usually though, black bears won't bother you and grizzlies will lose interest if you stand your ground."

"Oh, I'd never be able to do that." Albert confessed as they began up a steep incline. "I'm far too flighty. A particularly overenthusiastic badger could send me running."

Arthur sniffed a little, eyeing Albert's bag, and he remembered what he'd brought for him. "Oh, yes, here." He passed him the bag, glad to have a little weight off his load as he struggled. "Honey loaf, the biggest jar of honey I could find, and some berries. Oh, and a salmon too. I just asked a man I met what bears like, and he gave me some pointers." He smiled as he wiped his brow. "Also some on how to kill bears, but I ignored that part."

Arthur was about to tear into the food when he noticed how Albert struggled without his horse. "Here, take this back." He gave him the bag, then began to take off his clothes. "I'll change here, we'll get there faster."

Albert averted his eyes, although it was something he'd seen before, and he waited for Arthur to be decent. It was a few moments later that he heard the huffing grunts of the bear and he turned, eyes wide. It still filled him with anxiety, being this close, those claws, those teeth. But Arthur lowered himself to his belly, giving Albert a growl.  
"...You want me to ride you?" Albert asked. "Oh, my, how exciting! Riding a bear! If that idiot in the Valentine saloon could see me now." He moved closer to Arthur and placed a hand on his back, feeling his fur. He didn't expect it to be so luxuriously soft and he fought the urge to bury his face in it. He had to climb a little to get settled, but once he was sat on Arthur, he gave him a kick as he might a horse. "Ah, I do apologise. Force of habit."

Arthur growled in a way that sounded oddly like a laugh and rose to his paws, beginning to walk. It was different to riding a horse. Whereas horses were fast and sleek, the bear was bulky, nothing but pure power behind every one of his movements. He scaled the landscape with an ease that impressed Albert, and he couldn't help giving him a pat, gentle at first, but soon he was slapping his neck, Arthur craning his head to one side to give him a better reach.

Once they reached the top of the hill, a meadow away from the bear den, Arthur laid down and looked at Albert with a deep grumble. "Thank you, my friend! That was wonderful." He smiled as he slipped down to the ground, opening his bag. "As promised." He picked up the salmon, and before he could put it down, Arthur opened his jaws wide for him. He couldn't help but gulp hard as he saw those massive canines, but he fed Arthur the fish, watching him make short work of it. He smiled and began to set up his camera, humming to himself as Arthur began to lick the honey from the jar, making slurping sounds.  
"I must say, Mr Morgan, I am very glad I stumbled across you. Not just for the fact that you're helping me, but because you are extraordinary." He heard the slurping stop and looked toward the bear, seeing him staring, drooling with honey all over his nose. "Do you not just embody the entire spirit of this great land? Man and beast, civilisation and wild, pushing and tearing at each other. Luckily for you, the wild has pretty much won." He said as he picked up his tripod. "I rather think America's fate won't be the same."

Arthur gave a mournful moan as he turned back to his honey and Albert laughed, moving to give him a pat, before walking to stand in the middle of the meadow, setting down some bait. He didn't mind Arthur being so far away, knowing bears were very fast. He could save him from any dangerous wildlife. Hell, he could probably smell them before Albert even noticed.

After around fifteen minutes, Albert tensed as a black bear lumbered into view, eagerly sniffing at the bait, a perfect shot. Albert smiled and took a few photos, glad he had such good luck. The bear seemed to think something was wrong, and turned to run away. "Ah, no matter." He smiled, turning toward Arthur.

He wasn't there, and Albert scanned the meadow for him. He spotted him a little way away, and called to him. "Hey, I got the photograph!" He shouted to him.

The bear raised its head, and Albert frowned when it stood on its hind legs, roaring at him. "Mr Morgan?" He whimpered, stepping back a few paces. When the bear dropped to its front paws and began to charge, he forgot everything about standing his ground and broke into a sprint, screaming as he tried to find somewhere to hide. Nowhere. He was in the middle of a wide meadow.

Blinding pain exploded through him as he was knocked over by half a ton of pure rage. He rolled onto his back, wailing as he saw nothing but teeth and claws and saliva, his whole mediocre life flashing before his eyes. "Mr Morgan! Please! A-Arthur!"

As the bear moved its gaping jaws down to bite off his head, a sudden blur of brown knocked it off Albert, and he saw another bear, this one snarling and roaring. And covered in honey and berry juice.  
If he wasn't trying to not pass out, Albert would have felt silly that he'd assumed Arthur was attacking him. He panted heavily, watching the bears fight with teeth, claws, the slashing, the biting, the blood and snarls. It was terrifying, like seeing two colossal creatures from prehistory battling for supremacy.

The other bear eventually decided it wasn't worth it and turned tail, Arthur bellowing after it with a snarl.

"Oh, my! Dear me, I thought that was the end of me." Albert breathed, hand on his chest. "You saved me once again, Mr Morgan." He smiled, but soon frowned as he saw the injuries on his companion's body. "Goodness! Here, let me…" He hopped to his feet with a groan of pain and rushed toward Arthur, inspecting the claw marks on his face, and the bite on his shoulder. "Are you alright? Does it hurt?" He asked, not realising he was giving his chin a scratch.

Arthur grunted and sniffed at Albert's face. It was then he felt a trickle down his cheek, and he touched a cut he'd sustained during the fall. "This is nothing, not compared to you! Bear or not, those injuries need treating." He turned toward his bag, but stopped when he felt teeth on his collar, lifting him off his feet. He yelped, kicking his legs as he was set down in front of Arthur, his wet nose huffing at him, inspecting him. "I'm okay, Mr Morgan! Just a little bruising on my back, I should think." He said, trying to push him away. Arthur was far stronger than him, and he sighed, feeling that impossibly soft fur. He understood now the romantic notion of a bearskin by the fireplace, the image of naked skin against it while entwined with one's lover. He thought back to his dream again and shuddered, unable to stop himself burying his face into the top of the bear's head.

A cleared throat startled him and he realised with a blush that he hadn't noticed Arthur had changed back, and that he was nuzzling into his hair. "O-Oh, I do apologise! Your fur is very soft, is all."

"No worries." Arthur mumbled as he looked at the wounds on his body. Before Albert could offer to bandage him, he was rubbing them with wet moss. He then grabbed some yarrow and began to chew it up, spitting the mixture onto his fingers to rub into his cuts.

Albert tilted his head. "Huh. I suppose that works too." He smiled. However, he jumped a little when Arthur grabbed his head, rubbing the mixture into the cut on his face, making Albert's eyes widen a little. He wasn't disgusted by the fact that it was flowers and spit, more surprised that Arthur would use his own method with him. "Th-Thank you." He swallowed. "It's a shame I didn't get any photographs of that grizzly before she left."

The bear was back again, and Albert wondered why it was that he always missed the change from man to beast. It was always when he wasn't looking. Arthur walked forward, sitting in front of the camera. Albert smiled and took some photos of him, finding he looked like a teddy bear, soft and fluffy, not threatening at all. Such a perfect representation of the sweet side of bears he'd so wished to see, wished to show everyone, so they didn't kill them for being heartless monsters.

As the pair walked back, Arthur clothed and Albert satisfied, he tried to work up the courage to ask Arthur to meet him again. He didn't want him to think he was pressuring him, but he couldn't stand the thought that he wouldn't see him again.

"I'm renting a cabin in two weeks." Albert began, holding onto the other man's arm as they navigated a tricky bit through the rocks. "Near O'creagh's Run."

"I know it." Arthur nodded. "Knew the guy who lived there. He was the only one, other than you, who knew about the bear. Hamish…" He sighed. "Ripped that boar apart for killing him."

Albert frowned a little. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories." He gave his arm a pat as they stepped onto the road, and Albert saw his horse grazing on the other side of the river, with some relief. "I wondered, would you care to join me? Good fishing spot, I could get some decent photographs of you in the lake."

"Huh. Alright, sure." Arthur smiled. "Bit of a con, ain't it? Taking pictures of a bear that ain't a bear."

Laughing, Albert loaded his luggage onto his mare, giving her a pat as she nickered worriedly. "Let's not argue semantics, Mr Morgan. The outcome will be the same; a respite for those creatures most at risk from hunting."

Arthur shrugged and nodded, helping Albert onto his horse. "I'll see you then. Take care, Mr Mason."

"You too, Mr Morgan!" Albert grinned as he watched him swagger away, feeling wholly blessed that he was allowed a glimpse into this man's strange life.


	2. Fire

O'creagh's Run was a gorgeous place, a beautiful lake that shimmered with light and life, brimming with fish, visited by birds and deer. Albert took a deep breath of the beautifully crisp air, blowing steam from his mug of coffee. In New York, the air was stifling with smog and smoke, but here it felt as though it was as clear as a mountain stream. He leant against the railing outside the cabin, sipping his coffee and yawning. 

No matter what Albert thought about, his mind always drifted back to Arthur. The way he looked at him, the gentle touches, how he had saved him twice. Soft fur. He spotted a large shape on the other side of the lake, and he lifted a tentative hand to wave. The bear paused and sat on its haunches, lifting a paw to wave back before continuing. Albert laughed, walking back into the cabin to lay out the food he'd brought for his friend. Mostly honey. It may have been a cliché, but Albert knew bears loved honey. 

There was a knock at the door and Albert opened it, finding Arthur stood there. He looked different, however. His eyes were wild, hair unkempt, long, along with his beard. In his open, panting mouth, his teeth were sharper, his nails more like claws. He seemed bigger, like he was more bear than man at that moment.  
"Good god, are you alright?" Albert asked, wrapping a blanket around Arthur and guiding him to a chair. 

"Mh." Arthur gripped the blanket, gritting his teeth. "Not feelin' so good." He mumbled, entirely disregarding the honey on the table. 

Albert pushed some hot coffee into his hands, staring at his claws. "Is it anything I can help with?" 

Arthur nodded a little, taking a breath. "Wouldn't want you to though. You see…It's mating season. Always gets me a bit--" He was interrupted by a growl, deep in his chest, as involuntary as a sneeze. "Sorry. I should probably go."

A little shocked, Albert looked at Arthur, from his teeth to his claws, his bulging muscles, and the clear stiffness beneath the blanket. Poor man. He supposed, like this, halfway between forms, he could hardly just waltz into town for a working girl. He couldn't just send him back into the wilderness, not least now it was beginning to rain. "You, ah… You need someone to make love to you?" He asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. His dreams, oh, his dreams. Claws and kisses, fangs and love, the fur and the ecstasy. 

Arthur nodded. "Really badly. I don't expect anything from you, though, don't worry."

"But what if I want it?" 

Looking at Albert with wide eyes, Arthur blinked slightly. "...Albert, don't say that if you don't mean it. You have to be sure." He said with a stern growl. "It'll be rough, and once I get going…"

Albert leant forward and pressed a kiss to Arthur's lips, soft and loving, his hands combing through his tangled hair. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I wouldn't want you to stop. Honestly, I've been imagining this since we met."

A wide grin split Arthur's face. He stood up, and Albert gasped at how huge he was, how amazingly hulking and present. He didn't feel in danger though. He felt safe. "You want me to stop, you grab something and give me a good smack. Like that vase or a broom. Might not be able to snap out of it otherwise."

Albert nodded, his breath in his throat as Arthur began to undress him. At first, the buttons were undone with care, but after a moment, his trousers were ripped clean off with claws. Albert’s skin was beautifully soft and devoid of blemishes. Arthur could barely contain himself as he dug his claws into his milky shoulders, Arthur pushing him onto the bed and nearly leaping on top of him, knocking over a chair in the process. Arthur began to lick at his neck, his sharp teeth ghosting his skin and nipping at him. Albert squeaked and giggled as Arthur's facial hair tickled him, tangling his fingers into his hair.  
"D-Do try to be a little careful. I'm somewhat of a virgin.”

Arthur growled, mouthing at his pert nipples, making Albert mewl with delight, utterly ridiculous noises that gave him pause for a moment. He chuckled as he felt the stiffness against his thigh, Albert standing to attention as Arthur teased him, nipping and suckling on his skin, only just enough to leave faint pink marks. He gasped softly as Arthur rocked against him, biting his lip. "Oh, dear me…" He breathed, pawing helplessly at Arthur's chest. “Come on, I need you.”

Arthur rumbled a snarl, taking his length in his rough palm, making him gasp. His eyes rolled back and he lifted his hips, whining when Arthur pushed them back down, putting his hands on the mattress and clawing at it, ripping the fabric. He leant down, growling in his ear like a ravenous wolf, thumbing over the head of his cock. Albert moaned, surprised at the noises coming out of his own mouth. He shuddered as he felt Arthur's hot skin be pressed against his, their shafts together, and he could barely stop a yell as Arthur began to move his hips, rutting hard against him. Albert held onto Arthur's shoulders, fingertips squeezing tightly. "Goodness me…" He whimpered, trying to get himself together enough to snatch up the pot of vaseline he’d brought for his chapped lips and saddle sores. 

As Albert tentatively opened himself up, pressing his fingers deep inside himself, he sighed with a bit lip. He’d never done anything like that before, but he didn’t want Arthur trying with those claws. He hissed through his teeth as Arthur took both of them in his fist so he could pump them together, still thrusting against Albert, smiling at his frantic moans and shuddering panting.  
Wrapping his muscular arm around Albert, Arthur ground against him with unbridled lust. Hot breath on his pale neck, he gasped and groaned, scraping his fangs along his shoulder with an open mouthed moan.  
“I-I’m ready, you can-- Ah!” Albert gasped. “Inside…” He mumbled.

Arthur grabbed the smaller man and pulled him close, pushing inside roughly, making Albert yelp slightly with pain, but he didn’t stop. Albert didn’t want him to. If he needed this, he wouldn’t stop him on his behalf. Arthur pulled back halfway, then pushed forward quickly. Albert was incredibly tight, and Arthur had a flicker of doubt behind his need to mate, but he kept going, Albert whining as he wrapped his legs around his waist. Arthur began to build a hard, fast, rough pace, pulling Albert’s hips against his own with the repeated slap of skin on skin. Albert whimpered, both with pain and pleasure, tightening around Arthur and making him groan with glee. As he reached down to grasp at his own cock, Arthur bared his teeth at him, clearly possessive, not wanting him to touch himself. He saw the bear behind those eyes, the animal, the savage need to mate, and he adored every second of it. He’d always wished to be close to the barbaric side of nature, which is what drew him to the wilds in the first place, but to be here, fucking an actual bear…  
Arthur’s claws raked down Albert’s chest, leaving thin red lines that beaded with blood, making Albert hiss a little. He found it strange that the sensation heightened his pleasure and he wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck, wanting to pull him closer. Lifting Albert, Arthur pressed his back against the wall, holding one of his legs in hand, pounding into him relentlessly, his claws raking down the wall in lieu of shredding Albert to bits, the shelf above them coming loose and clattering to the floor. Albert couldn’t move from his position, having to take what Arthur gave to him, but it felt right. It felt perfect.  
Backing him to the hilt, Arthur delved deep, earning him repeated grunts of pure pleasure, his muscles occasionally tensing around him. As Arthur pulled him closer, he hit that perfect point, that made his teeth grind and his limbs tingle with delight. “Arthur… Oh, Arthur!” Albert gasped, the desire dripping from his words making Arthur even more eager. He slammed into him again and again, pummeling his G spot mercilessly.  
The energy in his chest began to grow, climax within reach. He clenched his toes, fist balled as he moved to kiss Arthur, the pair making obscene noises into one another. Sparks crackled up the base of his spine, the heat in his belly becoming unbearable, spots in his periphery. Gasping, growling, groaning, Arthur came with a roaring rumble, hearing Albert whimper and whine as he orgasmed too, their release perfectly synchronised, Albert’s spattering onto their bellies. 

Riding the warm buzz of his afterglow, Arthur exhaled, eyes fluttering closed as Albert gasped with amazement, breathy and exhausted. Arthur pulled Albert onto the bed and laid beside him, their bare skin flushed as they cradled one another, their hearts beating in time as they laced their fingers together.  
"Oh my… That was indescribable." Albert smiled as he nuzzled into Arthur, humming with contentment. “Are you feeling better now?” He asked, looking up into his face, now perfectly human.

“So much, thank you.” Arthur smiled, stroking Albert’s hair. “Oh, no, did I do that?” He asked, tentatively touching the scratches marring his chest. 

Albert nodded. “It’s alright though. At least you didn’t bite me. All love for you aside, I rather think I should stay a human.”

With a chuckle, Arthur stood up and lifted Albert bridal style, carrying him toward the banks of the lake. “I hope you can swim.” He smiled as he ran to the dock and leapt off the edge, making Albert scream as the pair of them dropped into the cold water. Arthur helped Albert surface, strong enough to help them both stay floating.

“You bastard!” Albert shivered, coughing a little.

Arthur laughed and rubbed at his skin, washing his cum from his belly. “Come on, it’s just water.” He smiled, soothing his scratches with cool, lapping waves and warm, loving kisses. “Besides, otherwise, you’ll be very sore later on.” He said, a hand on Albert’s behind making him giggle girlishly.

“Oh, alright.” The water wasn’t so bad after the initial shock, and he pushed away from Arthur to float on his back, sighing with contentment. “I feel wonderful. Lord only knows how good you feel, after that awful mating season thing you had.”

A brush of wet fur against his shoulder made Albert grin and he gave Arthur’s ears a scratch. He noticed that Arthur had a fish in his mouth and laughed, patting his muzzle before he swallowed it down. “Let me go get dry and dressed, and we’ll take some photos.” He said, wading out of the lake and stepping into the cabin. He gasped at how much of a mess it was, claw marks on the walls, in the bed, the floor covered in knocked over and broken objects. “Dearie me! This will take some explaining.” Albert huffed with amusement as he began to dress himself, wincing at the pain in his behind. He didn’t mind. It was worth it.

The glow of the late morning on the splashes that Arthur made while fishing created glinting ripples of light over his fur, the spray from struggling trout making little rainbows. As Albert snapped the photos, he felt that each one held the beautiful, glimmering aura of admiration that he held for the man in front of him. The bear in front of him. He knew they were one and the same, both mighty, both wonderful, and both nestled within his heart.


	3. Ice

"I never wanted to get tied down to it. I mean, photographing people, all those silly stuffy portraits. It bored me to death! Why waste time with frumpy old women and pompous fops when you can try to capture the savage, untamed beauty of nature?" Albert gestured to the sky from where he sat, with a grandiose wave of his arms. "Before it's all flattened by the churning cogs of industry."

Arthur listened attentively, taking a long look out from the hillside they were perched upon, scanning their surroundings. Their horses, Albert’s bay morgan and Arthur's brindle thoroughbred, were grazing not far away. Albert's horse, Rosie, seemed to be calmed by Persephone, not as flighty in Arthur's presence.  
Arthur nodded sagely, taking a bite of the chicken Albert had brought for him.

Albert sighed softly. "I do feel as though my mark won't be left, however. That I'll simply fade into obscurity and out of memory, as a deer does to the gun of a hunter." Staring at the clouds, he was quiet for a moment, before he snapped back to the naked man beside him. "So, that's me. What about you?"

"Mm." Arthur swallowed his mouthful. "Hell of a lot to tell." He smiled a little. "I mean, hell of a lot."

Shrugging, Albert opened two bottles of ginger beer, passing one to Arthur. "I've got time, I've got ears."

Arthur took a swig of it to clear his mouth of chicken. "Ma died. Pa died. Orphan on the streets for a while. Met two men, they became my fathers, I suppose. They taught me how to be an outlaw." That surprised Albert a little, but he didn't interject. "Got a gang together, big band of misfits. All really good people, mostly. Admirable." He heaved a sigh as he took another swig. "Then people died. Then more people died. Everyone was dying, hell, even I was dying."

"Y-You were?" Albert asked softly.

"Mhm. I got TB off a fella I beat to death for a debt." He said, as if it were as normal as feeding his horse. "Somewhere between the gang falling apart, and me actually doin' the dyin', I got mauled by a bear in Vetter's Echo. Actually thought that was gonna finish me off." He rubbed at his shoulder, thumbing the scars. "I feel like I did right by the people I loved, though. I was a bad man, a real bad man, but I made sure my brother and his woman and kid were all safe. Got the other women out of there, for the most part. Just tried to make amends, y'know?"

Albert realised that was the most he'd ever heard Arthur speak, and he placed a gentle hand on his back, running his nails in circles, making him smile absently and lean toward him. "That must have been so hard on you, I can't imagine."

Arthur shrugged. "This helped. The bear thing. I just woke up one day after a bit of a fever, seemed to have sweated out the TB. Guess the virus didn't like the competition." He snickered to himself. "Then I've got a head full of all this bear stuff. Hibernate and wake up and eat as much as you can so you can breed and then hibernate again. It's too distracting to be in town, usually. Especially since everyone thinks I'm dead." He shrugged. "Being a bear is nice though. Apart from the full moon, don't like that bit much."

"What happens?" Albert asked, little more than a whisper.

Arthur shook his head after another swig. "Full bear. Just one night a month, but its enough to scare me. As a bear, I've got all the bear thoughts, y'know. 'This smells like food, that's a threat, bite that thing, oh wow that beardy guy in the hat reeks of fear.'"

"Hey!" Albert laughed, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

Chuckling, Arthur continued. "But I've always got control. I can sit back and let myself just be, but I can always stop myself if I get too wild. Full moon, it's like I can just watch."

Albert gave his back a gentle pat, rummaging in his bag and pulling out a cherry pie. "Here, hopefully this will make you feel better." He smiled, taking a knife and slicing himself a piece, before handing the rest to Arthur.

He didn't stand on ceremony, grabbing lumps of the pie with his hands, stuffing them into his mouth with a smile.  
"So, when is the next full moon, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Tuesday." Arthur said, licking his fingers. "Gonna try to stay up near Colter. Pretty empty up there, aside from memories." He grabbed another handful of pie. "Hopefully I won't maul anyone. As much as I love this, it's not for everyone. Imagine if some of the bastards in Valentine could turn into a bear at will."

Albert shuddered a little. "Eek, no thank you." He dabbed his chin with his handkerchief, looking at the red jam smeared all over Arthur. "I wish I could keep you company. Do you not think the bear would see me as a mate?"

"I won't risk it." Arthur said sternly. "You're too important."

"I am?" Albert asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Arthur took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Of course. You're my friend, and I ain't got many of those nowadays. Well…only one actually."

Albert tilted his head. "And who's that?"  
The look Arthur gave him made him flush and he laughed. "Sorry, yes, it's me, isn't it? Ever the buffoon."

Once he'd finished the pie, he licked himself clean and sipped his ginger beer, watching the world go by.

"Could I see you on Monday before the full moon?" Albert asked, leaning his head on Arthur's shoulder. "I know you've been doing this for a while, but I think I'd lay awake thinking about you if I didn't see you beforehand, just to…" He sighed softly. "I'm sorry, that must seem like such a silly request."

Arthur put an arm around Albert, squeezing him to his bare chest. "I'd love to." He smiled. "We could have a drink or two, or a meal, at the saloon in Valentine? About six?"

Albert beamed, nodding. "That would be wonderful!" There was nothing he loved more than spending time with Arthur.

**oOo**

Six o'clock came and went. Albert began to worry more and more as the hours ticked by. Surely Arthur wouldn't have intentionally missed their date? Three times he'd been approached by the working girls. Twice asking if he wanted to pay for their company, and once expressing genuine concern for the way he sat, barely touched drink in his hand, his eyes wide and worried.

"I'm waiting for someone." He said as he was approached for the fourth time, the girl seating herself opposite him.

She shrugged. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Albert. Albert Mason." He muttered. "I'm not interested, I'm sorry. Lot on my mind."

"You've been here seven hours, darling." She cooed, touching his hand. "If you're not going to pay for me, at least rent a room. And I'll look out for your person, come and get you when they arrive."

Albert sighed with exhaustion. "Oh, would you? Thank you so much." He smiled and reached into his bag, handing her some money. "Keep the change, for being so thoughtful."

She stood up and gave his back a stroke. "If anyone comes looking for Albert, Albert Mason, I'll be up quick as a flash."

He drifted off around 2am, sleeping through until 11. Nobody woke him, and he assumed that was because Arthur never arrived. He had to know. He had to make sure he was okay, safety be damned.

The journey up toward Colter was a long one, full of sharp winds and unfriendly terrain. He knew he wasn't making good time, especially as he had taken the wrong road for a good few hours and had to ask for directions. His horse, who still hated him, did not like the journey one bit, shying from every shadow and kicking up a fuss when her hooves touched snow. "Come on, you silly old nag. We're nearly there." Albert wondered if he should have brought a weapon along, at least to frighten the bear if it came down to it, but he dashed that thought immediately. What if he accidentally hurt Arthur? He'd never forgive himself.

As he followed the road past Lake Isabella, the full moon illuminated the way, glinting from the snow, casting all in a beautiful glow. As Rosie plodded along, still complaining, Albert exhaled, watching his breath billow in front of him. He'd always had an eye for the ethereal beauty of nature, seeing the good in everything, and the frozen harshness of the world around him was breathtaking. From the tinkle of ice to the flutter of snowflakes, and the way the ground crunched, it made him feel hopeful. Perhaps Arthur was okay. And if so, perhaps the bear wouldn't be quite as savage as Arthur had made him out to be.

Up the hill, Albert squinted in the moonlit gloom, seeing a dark shape laid on the ground. It wasn't big enough to be Arthur, but he spurred Rosie on, wondering what it might be. He supposed Arthur might have killed a deer or something, and it was a good chance to see if he could find a clue to whether he was alright or not.  
As he approached, he felt a deep chill of dread in his stomach. There, splayed on the ground, staining the snow crimson, was Arthur's horse.

Rosie whinnied with anxiety and Albert shushed her, patting her neck and trying not to look at the mess of her carcass. It was clearly a bear kill. Arthur's kill.  
"She must have tried to follow him. Oh, dear…" He breathed softly. Although it was troubling to see that Arthur had done such a thing, at least he was up here. At least he was safe.  
Albert tugged the reins to turn back, satisfied that he would see Arthur after the night had passed.

Gunshot.

The noise cracked the muted quiet of snowfall, and Albert gasped, turning his head toward Colter. "Arthur." He said, pressing onward with a contained haste. "Oh, please be okay… Please."

Another gunshot rang out as Albert saw the small settlement in the distance, and he swallowed hard, pulling his coat around himself. He'd have to be brave. He was bad at being brave. Unlike Arthur.

A figure stood a little way from Colter, rifle raised, aiming at something Albert couldn't see, although he could guess what it was. As he reloaded and aimed, Albert dismounted and began to run toward the man. "Don't!" He cried out, desperate to protect Arthur.

The man looked at Albert with shock, not expecting to see anyone else. The look of shock didn't fade. It only grew as he was knocked to the ground by a colossal paw, the gun firing into a tree. Albert froze in place, the screams ringing in his head as Arthur bellowed a roar, ripping the man's head from his shoulders with a gurgling crunch. Albert couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Great chunks of the former hunter were devoured by the bear, as if Persephone hadn't filled him enough.  
Coming to his senses, Albert took a few steps back, looking around for Rosie. With a spike of realisation like falling through a frozen lake, he realised she'd bolted.

He was on his own with the bear.  
Colter wasn't too far away, and he spent a few precious seconds debating if he should sneak or run. Those seconds made the decision for him, as those terrible black eyes fixed on him, and the bear, in all his colossal might, began to charge.  
"Arthur!" Albert screamed as he ran toward the buildings, not looking back as he fought through the snow. "Arthur, it's me! Please!"

He shouldered the door open, ignoring the throb in his arm, and slammed it behind himself. Thankfully, there was a door bar, and he pushed a table against it for good measure. Just in time, as a shuddering crash against it rocked the entire building, dust filtering down from the rafters.  
Albert heard a muffled roar of rage from outside, and he backed away from the door, his back pressed against the fireplace.  
"Oh, you idiot, Albert. You absolute fool." He whispered, his breath shaky, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard he thought they might break. He was stuck, well and truly, and he knew the weak wood wouldn't keep Arthur out for long. A roar and another enormous thump against it made him whimper.

He didn't know what to do. Even if he had a weapon, how could he hurt Arthur? He couldn't…  
Turning toward the fire place, Albert knelt down, wrapping his scarf around a broken chair leg and coating it in kerosene from his lantern. He heard the bear trying different points in the wall, desperate to get to him, with teeth and claws and unfiltered strength. Swallowing hard, knowing he had to be brave, he lit his torch, holding it so tightly his knuckles went white. He didn't know what Arthur would do if he found out that he had killed him, and the thought of his heartbreak was enough to spur him on.

The wall beside Albert splintered with an almighty crash, some of the boards coming loose and flying at him, making him yelp and jump back. A colossal paw swiped at him through the gap, jaws snapping eagerly at him, and he cried out, brandishing the torch. The bear retracted its paw, and Albert breathed a sigh, only to hear the thunder of heavy steps as the bear took another shot at coming through the wall.  
Albert pulled the table out of the way of the door, his breath choppy as he unlocked it and fled, just in time to hear the crash behind him. He didn't look back, throwing the torch away to make sure he didn't stand out, veering around another building.

His stomach lurched as he fell, his legs knocked out from under him by a rock. Hissing, he was about to get to his feet when he noticed something hard in his pocket that he'd fallen on, creating a bruise. He pulled it out. Cover scent lotion. Gasping, he smeared it over himself with shaking hands, then darted toward the ruined church, pressing his back against the rocky wall. There, he stood, torn between hyperventilation and holding his breath, hearing the deep grunts of the beast circling around where he had fallen, not thirty feet away. It couldn't smell him.

His breath began to even out, and he tried to calm down, the sweat of fear giving way to the freezing wind, his damp hair beginning to stiffen. He knew if he didn't run soon, he'd either die of exposure, or eventually be found.  
The crunch of bone echoed through the small town, and Albert realised Arthur had gone back to eat the hunter. Ignoring the creeping nausea, he peered out at the vague dark shape in the distance, deciding it was now or never.

If he could make it to that hunting cabin he'd seen, he could wait out the night and find Arthur in the morning. He didn't even know how long it was until sunrise. It could've been hours, it could've been minutes. But time wouldn't wait for him, and neither would death.

Every time his foot crunched into the virgin snow, he expected savage jaws and pain, but he seemed to be fine aside from the chill creeping into his bones. The sky seemed to be lightening, however, and he hoped the sun would rise soon. He kept berating himself in his head, knowing he was an idiot for coming, wondering how stupid he must have been for traipsing up there to see Arthur when he knew damn well what would happen. Perhaps, he concluded, he thought the bonds of love were enough to protect him.

Clearly not.

The growl from behind him made his breath catch in his throat, and he turned, looking at the one thing he didn't want to see. Arthur wasn't charging yet, but Albert knew it was only a matter of time. Taking his chances, Albert began to run, trying to keep to the footprints already there to try and keep himself fast. The lumbering thunder of paws behind him made tears of terror sting his eyes, and he didn't notice he was running onto the ice of the lake until he skidded to a halt, hearing the strange echo of it cracking beneath him.

Arthur seemed not to be hindered by the ice, and slowed to a walk, stalking toward Albert with his bloody, drooling muzzle. "Oh, please, Lord, see me through this…" He whispered as he backed away, the heel of his boot causing a ripple in the still surface of the water as he reached the edge of the ice.  
"A-Arthur, I don't know if you're in there…" Albert said as the bear walked closer. "But if you are, don't blame yourself for this. It's my fault. I just wish I could've seen you before this…"

As Arthur leapt toward him to finally finish him off, there was a shuddering crack, and Albert yelped as he fell into the water, freezing and black, filling his nose and mouth with ice. He stifled a gasp, desperate not to drown, and tried to surface. His bleary eyes saw the dark shape above silhouetted against the soft glow of the sky, rippling with the after effect of his splash, and he wondered. Wondered if there could've been something else. He pictured himself, perhaps a wolf, more likely a rabbit, alongside the bear. They were running, in the lush grass, through the shallow rivers, chasing and playing. Forever wild.

It was his last thought before the darkness, the shape drawing nearer, and all he saw was the flash of pearly white canines.


	4. Heart

He wasn't dead. That was the first thought in his head. He wasn't cold either. The sun was up, warming his closed eyelids, and he breathed a sigh of relief. A musty smelling blanket was over him, old but warm, despite the holes. Below him, he felt furs, and he pressed into them. Was it a dream? He hoped so. Arthur had eaten a man in front of him, and the thought of that might have tainted his view of his perfect cowboy. 

A rumbling growl shook him, and his eyes flew open, looking around the cabin in a panic. As he moved to sit up, he noticed a sharp pain in his side, and he cried out, his bed of furs moving beneath him with surprise. It was Arthur, and he'd woken up.  
Albert scrambled to his feet, holding his side, noticing he was only in his underwear. As he moved to the door, desperate to avoid being killed, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him around, and Arthur pulled him into a hug. 

"Hey, it's okay, it's alright…" He whispered, stroking his back. "It's not the full moon anymore, it's day, you're safe."

Albert all but collapsed into Arthur's strong arms, feeling his body shake with sobs, crying into the larger man's shoulder. "O-Oh, god, Arthur… You… You…."

Nodding, Arthur led him to sit by the fire where his clothes hung drying, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. "I told you not to follow me."

With a hard swallow, Albert wiped at his eyes. "You didn't show up in Valentine, I was so worried that you were hurt."

Arthur passed Albert a cup of coffee, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry. The man you saw me… Well…he knew what I was. He was tracking me, and I couldn't risk him finding us together, I didn't know what he would do to get to me." 

"You killed him."

Sitting on the floor, Arthur scratched at his chin. "I've killed a lot of people. I know you're a soft city boy, but that's just how it is."

Albert didn't want to get into a moral dispute, so he sipped his coffee quietly. "...what happened? I remember the lake…"

Arthur winced a little. "Yeah. The bear dragged you out to take you back to the other guy, save you for later. The sun came up soon after. I thought you were dead, I nearly…" He took a breath to steady himself. "I couldn't lose anyone else." He muttered, looking at the floor. "I didn't bite you, don't worry. I did scratch your side as I pulled you out of the water, but I managed to patch you up after I got you warm."

"Thank you." Albert breathed, finishing off his coffee. "I'll wait for you next time. That was possibly the worst day of my life. A little ironic that I was nearly your lunch, when so many creatures have wanted to make a meal of me."

"I'm sorry." Arthur leant his head against Albert's leg, sighing. "I tried to find your horse, but she's long gone. And mine…" He trailed off, rubbing his neck. "Poor thing…"

Albert stroked his hair gently. "Well, I have an idea if you'll indulge me. It will certainly stop that idiot in the Valentine saloon from bothering me."

Arthur looked up at him with a raised brow. "You want to saddle me, don't you?" 

Nodding, Albert grinned. "Come on, imagine how incredible we would look, Albert Mason riding in on the back of a tame bear! The soft city boy finally earns some respect! Then we'll get some horses for ourselves." He leant down to kiss Arthur's forehead. "What do you say?" 

"..Ah, fuck it." 

The saddle had to be modified to be put on Arthur, but it fit quite nicely once it was on there. Albert was uncomfortable with the guns on the saddle, but he didn't say anything as he fashioned some reins out of rope, if only for show. Arthur grumbled and rubbed against his leg, making Albert laugh and reach down to scratch his ears. "Strange, how it's still you in there, but I still want to rub your belly and feed you only the finest salmon." He said as he climbed into the saddle, petting Arthur as they trudged through the snow. "Now, you'll tell me if I get too heavy. I don't wish to damage you with my weight." 

A pack of wolves made Albert tense, the creatures seeming interested in the pair, but knowing better than to approach. Albert felt almost invincible, knowing Arthur would protect him. He cleared his throat, wetting his lips. "I fear I may be worrying a little about your thoughts, probably too much. I just want you to know, I'm not angry at you. Or afraid of you." He winced, tilting his head from side to side. "Well, possibly a little. I can't get the image of how you looked at me out of my mind…" He snapped back to what he was saying with a soft noise of alarm. "What buffoonery! Here I am, attempting to dispel any notions of relationship strain, and I go and say something like that! I'm sorry, Mr Morgan." 

Arthur grumbled as they began to walk where the snow was thin. He hated that Albert was afraid of him. He'd never wanted that. He'd never wanted him to see him as a monster. It was a fine life, a good retirement, living as a bear in the woods. He never thought he'd find another human connection, however. His time was occupied with hunting, hibernating, not dating. But now he had someone he cherished, and he'd be damned if he or anyone else was going to ruin it. 

"Jesus Christ!"  
Albert looked up and saw a hunter, a deer slung over the back of his horse, eyes wide. "That gotta be the strangest thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, yes, he's a good mount." Albert smirked, feeling more than a little pleased with himself. "You have a nice day now, sir!" 

"Well I'll be…" The man scratched his head as he watched the pair continue down the trail, clearly flabbergasted. 

Albert laughed to himself. "Human, bear, you capture the attention of all around you, don't you?" 

As they rode into Valentine, all heads turned to stare. The gigantuan, placid bear, holding aloft the strangely dressed man, the pair riding toward the hitching post as though they had done it a thousand times. Horses around them were skittish, but nobody dare say anything as Albert took some fish from his bag and fed the bear as one might a horse, patting his side. 

"How the hell did you manage that?" A man asked, staying back from Arthur. "Is it tame?" 

"Borderline domesticated. But I should advise against you getting your own." He tweaked Arthur's ears, making him shake his head and lean against Albert slightly. "We have a special relationship."

The man suddenly grinned. "I'm gonna go bet Fergie that there's a saddled bear out here, easy money!" He ran off, leaving Albert and Arthur with the stares. 

"Stay here, and don't look too threatening." Albert said, looking toward the stable. "I think I have just enough for us to get two horses."

Arthur sat down, watching Albert walk toward the stable, almost laughing at his confident walk in that grunting way he did as a bear. 

Albert walked out with another morgan for himself, and a cheap shire that hadn't any paperwork, but he supposed Arthur wouldn't mind. Speaking of, he didn't seem to be having trouble where he'd left him. 

The bear was pulling at the rope, clearly strong enough to snap it easily, but just tugging it gently. On the stairs of the general store, three small children stood, their eyes wide as they seemed on the fence about approaching him. Albert smiled toward them. "You can come over, it's alright." He beckoned them. 

The children approached cautiously and Arthur was clearly very happy to let them pet him. Albert wondered about Arthur, whether he had any children out there, or anyone he used to care for, as he was snuffling at them and making them giggle.  
"Can I feed him this peppermint?" The little girl asked, and Albert nodded with a small laugh. 

Arthur was as gentle as a lamb, taking the mint and sitting down with a grunt, letting the kids fuss him. Albert took the saddle off Arthur and put it on the shire, making sure it was comfortable before taking Arthur's reins in his free hand. "Say goodbye to the kids."

Arthur lowed at them, and the trio laughed and waved as Albert led two skittish horses and one calm bear over behind a nearby house. When sure nobody was watching, Arthur shifted back, and this time Albert watched him. 

It looked painful, his bones reforming, his fur falling out and dissolving upon contact with the dirt. The fangs sank into his gums, claws retracting, his face morphing back into the Arthur that Albert loved. He reached into his bag and pulled on his union suit and a pair of jeans, slinging his shirt loosely around his shoulders. 

"Do you have children?" Albert asked, still pondering how eager Arthur seemed to make the kids happy. 

Arthur tensed a little and grunted as he mounted the shire, patting his neck roughly. "Not anymore." He said simply. 

"O-Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me, you know how idiotic I am." Albert climbed onto his own horse, getting settled as they rode out of town across the fields, lest someone see them. 

Arthur was quiet for a little while as they rode nowhere in particular. He spoke softly, only just audible over the hooves. "Had a son once. Isaac. Long time ago, it feels like. Good kid."

Albert nodded, keeping his mouth shut. He knew how easily he messed things up, and didn't want to say anything that might stop Arthur from talking. 

"Died with his ma. I should'a been there, but I was running with my goddamn gang all the time. But when I see cubs-- I mean, kids…" He laughed softly at his own mix up. "Well, they learnin' the world for the first time. Why not give 'em some happy memories before they realise everything is shitty?" 

"I'm sorry. I truly am." Albert halted his horse, and Arthur pulled on his reins too. "Not everything is bad, though, Arthur."

Pulling a carrot from his saddle bag, Arthur fed his new horse, not looking at Albert. "You name me one thing that is truly good, Mr Mason."

Albert puffed out his chest. "Easy." He gestured toward Arthur. "You, of course."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh, the sound husky and deep. "You have a funny definition of 'good'."

"Arthur Morgan, you are wonderful and I shall not stand to hear you deny it!" Albert frowned as he reached over to hold Arthur's hand. "Now repeat after me. I am good and I am wonderful." 

Arthur sighed heavily, his free hand going to pinch his nose. "...I am good and I am--" 

"A dirty fuckin' queer!" A voice piped up, and the pair tensed, looking to see three men, dressed darkly, all filthy. Laramies. "Look at you, pair of Marys." The man who first spoke spat like the word had a bad taste. 

"N-Now, gentlemen!" Albert held up both hands. "I was just comforting my friend."

One of the other men laughed incredulously. "I seen you, holdin' hands. And I seen you, city boy, waiting for your cowpoke in the saloon night before last!" He moved his gaze over to Arthur. "You off screwing some farmhand man-whore?" 

Albert looked to Arthur, who was shaking slightly, his hands gripping the reins so hard his knuckles were white. "You'd better do somethin'." He hissed. "Or I'll stop playing 'who should I kill first' in my head and I'll just go for what feels natural."

"Pl-Please, boys, for your own sake, you'd best be leaving." Albert shot Arthur a worried glance. "My friend here, he's not a man to be trifled with."

Arthur tried taking a shaky breath as the men laughed, scowling down at his hands, his nails lengthening slightly. Keep it together, keep it together…

One of the men suddenly stopped laughing as Arthur made eye contact, face falling. "Hang on a second… You…you ain't Arthur Morgan, are you?"

"That he is." Albert confirmed. 

"Fuck! I heard you died! Oh shit, fellas, this guy was Dutch's stooly. Remember what they did to Colm?" 

Arthur seemed to calm a little, tilting his head. "You boys was O'Driscolls?" 

They nodded warily. Arthur tried to keep his eyes fixed on them, as if he closed them, he knew what he would see. Kieran. It still hurt. "Well, I'm willin' to be mighty generous and let you leave. If you go right now."

As the trio fled, Arthur got down from his horse and helped Albert down, his thin arms staying around his neck as he squeezed him tightly. "You didn't kill them! You could have, but you didn't! That is certainly an indicator of your goodness."

"Ah, not this again." He laughed, lifting Albert off his feet, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "If you don't stop, I'll rip out your spleen and eat it."

Albert wrapped his legs around Arthur, laughing breathlessly as he was nuzzled. "I don't believe that for a second, Arthur Morgan." He cooed, a little disappointed when he was set down, but happy to be led by the hand, their horses following behind. 

Horseshoe Overlook was a little overgrown, still bearing the various items left behind after the incident in Valentine. It felt strange to be there, but most of the adjoining states were swimming in memories of his past. Arthur placed a hand on the tree Kieran was tied to, looking at the rock he always used to sleep against. "I'm sorry." He whispered. Regret twisted in his gut like a knife, and he drew his hand away, walking to sit on the ledge of the cliff, looking out at the valley. 

Sitting beside him, not brave enough to dangle his legs over the edge, Albert glanced at Arthur. "I just wanted to say thank you." He said softly. 

"What for?" 

"For everything. Saving me, loving me, being so gentle and kind." He took off his hat and combed his fingers through his auburn locks. "I felt like a sorry little fool before you came along." 

"Oh, Albert." Arthur sighed, wrapping an arm around him. "You still are a sorry little fool. But now you've got a murderous ex-outlaw at your beck and call."

Albert chuckled, leaning his head against Arthur's chest. An eagle soared close to the cliff, feathers ruffling in the warm breeze, its cry carrying across the landscape. "I was going to go back to New York."

"Oh." Arthur mumbled, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. 

Albert gripped Arthur's hand, as though worried he might slip away, and brushed his lips against his knuckles. "But I think living my life in a remote cabin with a bear man might just be my calling. That is, if you would like that too?" 

Arthur's surprise melted into pure adoration, his rough lips pressing against Albert's with a want that encapsulated the pair of them. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against his lover's, glad that after everything, after Albert saw the worst of him, he still loved him unconditionally. 

"I think I would like that."


	5. Family

He'd had a fight with Abigail again. Nothing too serious, but damn, that woman had a temper. Between the struggling ranch, a son that was getting to be just as stubborn as John was at his age, and a parasite with a beard leeching their money for hooch, John had to get away. He always had one thing that kept him company during bad times; Arthur's journal. If things got on top of him, he often flicked through it and went to tie up any loose ends. Finishing Arthur's various activities made him feel closer to him somehow, like they were doing them together.

That's how he ended up going to hunt that legendary bear that he and Hosea hadn't been able to kill. Unsurprisingly, as the beast was colossal.

Tugging on the reins, he slowed his stallion by the side of the water at O'Creagh's Run, dismounting and grabbing his rifle. He thought about Abigail's face when he brought a big bearskin rug to furnish the hearth and he chuckled to himself as he walked to the waterside to look for tracks.

He was surprised to see a veritable mess of footprints. Bear, human shoes, and human feet. None of them seemed to have any direction, and he found it hard to focus on any one set, his fingers dipping into his scars as he thought.

"Hello?"

John clutched his rifle close as he looked toward the voice, seeing a man there that looked out of place, with his bright green vest and boater. "Who are you?" He asked, voice gravelly.

The man shrank a little under his gaze, but still stepped closer. "Al-Albert Mason. I live here." He gestured to the cabin. "And you, sir? What's your business here?" He asked, adding a "I'm unarmed." with a twirl to show he was.

John lowered his gun and nodded. "Jo-... Jim. Jim Milton." He said, using his stupid fake name. "I'm hunting a bear. Big bastard he is."

Albert Mason seemed to go pale, and John raised an eyebrow at him. "What makes you think there's a bear around here?" He asked in a way that made John suspicious. He didn't know why though, just a prickle at the back of his neck.

"Got this." He pulled Arthur's journal from his pocket and thumbed through until he found the page about the bear, along with the animal map. "Friend of mine was here a good long time ago. Thought the bear might still be around."

The sketch on the page drew Albert’s eye, and he edged closer, only for John to snap it shut. "That's private, partner."

Albert nodded with understanding. "I'm sorry, but your friend must be quite the artist! Truly someone with an eye for detail."

John shrugged. "He was." He looked at the journal with a frown, before pushing down his feelings and swallowing for good measure. "I believe I've taken enough of your time Mr Mason." He said, turning.

"Oh, dear, do forgive me. I am ever the idiot." Albert stumbled over his words a little. "I was just about to make some tea. I don't suppose you would care to join me? My partner has gone hunting so I'm alone for the next few hours."

Ah, what could it hurt? Shrugging, John shouldered his rifle and followed him toward the cabin. "So, what is it that you do, Mr Mason?"

Albert opened the door and John was immediately greeted with several dozens of photographs, strewn across surfaces, pinned to the walls, hung on strings across the length of the cabin. "I suppose you could take an educated guess. Though I do suffer from terrible foolishness, so please be considerate before criticising too harshly." He said, gesturing around. "Oh, could you leave your guns in the umbrella stand, please?" He smiled, before walking to the fire to make the tea.

A little lost for words, John peered at the photographs, hesitant to touch. "Believe me, Mr Mason, I don't need 'em to be deadly." He said, still obeying, knowing he could easily take down this man if anything untoward happened.

"I don't doubt it, Mr Milton." John was about to ask who he meant, before he realised it was him.

His eyes cast over the cabin, from the table that was clearly Albert's workstation, to a bed that had a number of sketches pinned beside it. A shiver went up John's spine, and he stepped closer, his eyes widening as he recognised the style. Recognised the subject in the drawing. Heavy handed pencil sketches of Hosea, of Lenny, of Charles. He whirled around, frantically glancing at the photographs. Arthur fishing. Arthur cooking. Arthur with a bottle in hand, laughing in that way he always did while drunk.  
"What the fuck…?" He breathed, catching Albert's attention. "What…" He snatched up one of the photographs, striding over to Albert who squeaked and pressed against the wall. "Who is this, where did you get this?!" He thundered, his confusion and sorrow being subverted by rage. It had to be a trick of some sort.

"J-Just a friend! It's just my friend!" Albert whimpered, holding up his hands. "He should be coming back any moment!" That was a lie, he didn't know when Arthur would be back, him being a free spirit, but perhaps the man would back down if he lied.

"What's his name?!" John spat. He needed to know. He needed to.

Albert took a breath. "A-Arthur! His name is Arthur!" He grit his teeth, balling his fists. "Please, sir, I think it's time you left."

John was about to continue being hostile when he heard a deep, thrumming roar from outside. The bear. He'd get to the bottom of this later, he might not have had another chance to kill it. He saw it from the window, dragging an elk toward the cabin, grunting with exertion. Rushing forward, he grabbed his rifle and kicked open the door, aiming at the bear. The beast looked at him, eyes wide, as though shocked.

"No!" Albert ran after John and grabbed his rifle, pointing it anywhere but the bear, trying to wrench it from his grip. "Leave him alone!"

"Get off me!" John growled, and he hit Albert in the jaw, sending him sprawling backwards. The momentary lapse in his concentration was all the bear needed to gain ground, and terribly huge teeth snatched the rifle, bending it beyond repair. John yelped and skirted away, snatching his knife and holding it, waiting for the bear to come at him.

It didn't.

Instead, it lowered its head down to Albert, sniffing at his growing bruise with a low moan. Albert stroked his nose, using him to get to his feet shakily. "I'm okay, I'm okay…"

John's tense muscles relaxed for just a moment as he watched the photographer pet the bear with confusion. "So…He's yours?"

"In a manner of speaking." He touched his face, wincing slightly. "Please, put the knife away. He won't hurt you."

The bear huffed out a grunt, staring at John, waiting for him to put away the knife. Once he did, reluctantly of course, the beast lumbered over to him. He backed away, only for sharp teeth to hook under his belt, carrying him kicking and yelling toward the jetty. He felt a spike of fear as he was held over the deep water, pulling his knife out again, only to fumble it, watching it disappear into the lake. The bear shook him like a dog with a toy, making him yelp as his feet skimmed the water, terrified of drowning.

"Arthur, no! Don't do that!" Albert cried, rushing over.

John gasped. "A…Arthur?" He didn't believe it. But the bear stepped back and gently set him down on the wood, looking down at him with a tilted head. "You're a bear though!"

As the beast changed before his eyes, John's tongue stuck to his mouth like glue, his hands shaking a little. Arthur Morgan stood there, large as life, and very naked. John didn't care. He flung himself forward and wrapped his arms around Arthur, squeezing tightly. The raised scarring from his bear attack brushed his face, and he looked at it with a small smile, knowing how it felt. "That's quite a scratch you got there."

Arthur chuckled gruffly. "Never thought I'd say this, but it's good to see you, John Marston." He said, echoing those words from so long ago. "C'mon, lemme get some pants on." He smirked, turning to walk back to the cabin, leaving John stood there, awestruck.

As he followed, he looked at Albert who was pressing a wet rag to his face. "Sorry about that." He mumbled, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Thought he was gonna eat us."

"I've had worse. From Arthur, actually." He laughed as he closed the door behind John, going back to making the tea.

"See you kept the hat." Arthur said as he gestured to John's head, pulling on a shirt.

"Oh, yeah. Think it suits me." John turned a chair around to sit, looking at Arthur once he was decent. He was how he used to be, before he was sick, looking healthy and strong. "So…what happened? Last I remember, you was ready to die."

Arthur sat down, accepting the tea that Albert gave him. "Then I didn't. Funny, I thought I was taking my last breath, and then suddenly I was a bear." He explained his mauling at Vetter’s Echo, how he seemed to have gone from one life to another, dying and being reborn a bear. "Me and Albert have been together a few months now. He's really understanding, especially when it comes to the full moon."

Albert nodded, sitting down and offering John a biscuit, which he took with a word of thanks. "Well, I know that you're more animal than man really. Which I think is simply delightful."

"You've always been more animal than man." John smirked.

Spooning some honey into Arthur's tea, Albert sipped his own. "How long have you two known one another?"

"Too long." Arthur chuckled. "I met John when he was twelve when Hosea and Dutch adopted him. Little shitbag." He ignored John's noise of protest. "How's Abigail and Jack?"

"Real good! Got a ranch near Blackwater." John perked up and explained how he'd built them a house with Uncle and Charles, almost eager to impress Arthur with how well he'd taken care of them. "Oh, and Sadie found Micah." He added. "He was with Dutch. And now he's worm food."

"Dutch too?" Arthur asked, a conflicting expression of satisfaction and pain on his face that prompted Albert to take his hand.

John shook his head. "Just Micah. I don't know if I would be able to kill Dutch, honestly. I mean, would you?"

Arthur shook his head. "I dunno. I'm kinda holding off on killing people right now. Made some promises I intend to keep." He squeezed Albert's hand, shooting him a smile. "So, Uncle, Charles, and Sadie? Anyone else make it?"

Taking another biscuit, John nodded. "Pearson is working in the general store in Rhodes. Mary-Beth is writing romance novels. Tilly married pretty well, she's happy. She's pretty sure Karen is dead though… Strauss too, Pinkertons got him. But he didn't talk." He brushed some crumbs from his chest. "Oh, Swanson started a church. And Rains Fall has moved his tribe up to Canada so they're okay, I think."

Arthur took a deep breath and nodded, looking at Albert's wide, concerned eyes. "I do miss it. I guess, the romanticised version of it."

"Feelin' like you'll never die, but you wouldn't care if you did. Just us against everyone." John spoke his thoughts almost exactly and Arthur hummed in agreement.  
"...Will you come visit?" He asked after a moment, leaning forward. "Jack would love it. Might pull him out of his shell a little."

Albert interjected. "I think that might be a wonderful idea! I suppose it would be like me meeting your family."

Arthur mulled it over. There was a reason he hadn't sought anyone out. Mostly because he thought they were all dead. But because he wanted to move on, just continue being himself, without the memories. "Ah, I dunno, Marston."

"You can't just sit here in your love nest for the rest of your life."

"That's what you're doing, ain't it?"

John set his jaw with a glare, thinning his lips. "I'm only gonna keep pestering you about it."

God, it was like they were kids again. "You do, you'll wish them wolves had taken all your face off."

"Let's see you try, grandpa."

Albert tried to stop them bickering, but when he realised they were just brothers, their back and forth banter being nothing more than them bonding, he let it be.

"You know, if you don't come for dinner, I'll bring Jack up here for a fishing trip. Then you won't be able to escape."

"Fine!" Arthur cried, throwing up his hands.

Albert smiled as he poured more tea. "You could spend the full moon in Tall Trees if you like? I'll stay in Blackwater and we can meet up the day after before we go?" He suggested. "Ooh, I could take some excellent photographs down there."

"Alright, sure." Arthur nodded. "Guess I'll see you the day after the full moon then."

John gave Arthur another hug before he went, as though he'd never see him again, tight and lingering. It made Arthur realise just how much he'd missed him.

**oOo**

"Come here…" Albert tugged Arthur close by his lapels, straightening his collar and brushing down his hair.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "The Marstons have seen me in awful states, I don't care about how I look."

"I know." Albert said, brushing down his own clothes. "You're nervous though, I can tell. You'll do fine."

"Y'think?" He sounded vulnerable, his heart fluttering slightly. "I hope so."

As they approached Beecher's Hope, Arthur was surprised at the ranch, that John had built it all. Before, he wouldn't have trusted John to put up a tent that was already up. But it seemed pretty good. He saw a familiar figure slumped against a tree, and he smiled to himself, holding out an arm to stop Albert. "Hang on. I need to do something." He said before sneaking up to Uncle, shaking him awake.

"I'm up! I'm up! I'm… Arthur?" Uncle gaped up at him with wide eyes. "But you're dead! Am I dead?"

Arthur nodded gravely. "Welcome to the afterlife, old man."

"Oh, god… I knew it, I knew mucking out the barn would aggravate my lumbago! But did John listen?!" Uncle seemed genuinely distressed, and Arthur felt a little bad. "Is Susan around? It ain't heaven if I can't get in there."

Albert walked over, shaking his head. "You're not dead, sir. Neither is Arthur." He placed a hand on Arthur's back, smiling. "I'm Albert Mason."

"Uncle." He said simply, not standing up. "Pretty shitty trick to play on a terminally ill man, Mr Morgan."

Arthur scoffed, considering he was the one who had been on death's door. "Look, I'm gonna go inside. I'll see you for dinner."

"Not if I can avoid it." Uncle smirked, pulling his hat down over his eyes.

"What a colourful character." Albert laughed as they walked to the door.

Sighing, Arthur smoothed his hair. "You don't know the half of it." He knocked on the door, listening to muffled voices inside. He heard Abigail telling Jack to get the door, and he waited, anxious to see how much the boy had grown.

When the door opened, Jack looked up at the pair, his eyes widening, his mouth agape. "...Uncle Arthur?" He whispered, before flinging himself forward, wrapping his arms around him.

"Hey, Jackie." Arthur smiled as he leant down, lifting the boy into his arms. "Oof, you're so big! I'm surprised you remember me."

"I've got a photo of you. Pa said you were dead!" Jack said from Arthur's ear, latched around his neck.

As Abigail rounded the corner to see who was at the door, she dropped the glass she was holding, and it shattered across the floor. She was still for a moment before she also ran over, hugging Arthur tightly. He chuckled, rubbing her back. "I get the feeling I might'a been missed a little."

Abigail laughed through tears. "Who wouldn't miss the man who saved their family? Come on, come inside, tell us everything."  
Arthur put Jack down and Abigail gestured to the glass. "Jack, could you sweep this up while I get Arthur a drink?"

"Oh, allow me!" Albert smiled as he walked in behind them.

"You don't have to, Mr…?" Abigail held out her hand.

Albert took her hand. "Mason. Albert Mason. And it's no trouble at all." He assured, grabbing the broom from where it was leant against the wall.

Abigail smiled at Arthur. "Your friend is very helpful."

"Lover." Arthur corrected as he sat down, noticing Albert's deep blush.

"Oh, I didn't think your bread was buttered that side." She smiled, passing Arthur a bottle of beer.

"It's buttered both sides." He laughed as he took a swig. Jack sidled over to Arthur, and began to pull up a chair before Arthur lifted him onto his lap, making him squeak slightly. "You're not too old for lap sits are you?" He asked.

"No, sir. I think if my uncle comes back from the dead, I'd sit on his lap if I was fifty." Jack said with a sheepish smile.

Arthur leant back, smiling and tussling his hair, like he used to do. "Where's John?" He asked Abigail as she helped Albert sweep the glass into a dustpan.

"He went to send some letters to Sadie and Charles. Something about a bear?"

"Ah. That'll be me." Arthur smiled. Then he began to explain, going through three more beers. By the end of his story, both Jack and Abigail were staring with disbelief. "So, yeah. That's it, I think…"

Jack, who was always dreaming of magical faraway lands, was enraptured. "Can…Can we see the bear?" He asked in a whisper.

"If your Ma says it's okay, sure." Arthur smiled at Abigail, who looked a little pale.

"You're sure you have control over it?" She asked, worrying her lip.

Albert piped up, seemingly feeling a little left out. "Oh, he has impeccable control. When we were in Valentine, some children came to play with him and he was like a big puppy."

"Let me just…" Abigail pushed the sofa to make some space. "I still only half believe you, but we'll see."

Arthur lifted Jack from his lap like he was still four and stood up. "Is there a bathroom I can undress in?"

Abigail directed him to it, and he thanked her, slipping through the door. She looked at Albert, seeming a little awkward, but he just beamed at her. "Will you need any help cooking dinner?" He asked. "I'm happy to lend a hand."

"Oh, you're a kind man, ain't ya? I can see why Arthur likes you." She looked down the empty corridor with a soft sigh. "He always did try to do good by people, despite everything."

"I'm glad he stumbled across me that day. And not just because he saved my life."

"He seems to really be in the habit of saving people." Abigail laughed softly. She tensed a little however as she caught sight of the hulking shape in the hallway, the massive bear having to squeeze his way into the living room.

Arthur seemed stupidly huge in the house, but he tried not to knock anything over as he sat by the fire, blinking innocently at Abigail. Jack was cautious, but he made his way over, pressing a nervous hand to Arthur's cheek, smiling as he leant into the touch. "This is unbelievable." He breathed softly, seating himself down on the rug. Arthur slumped over, his head in Jack's lap, a soft growl showing his contentment as he was stroked.

With a quiet laugh, Albert rolled up his sleeves and moved to the kitchen, awaiting instruction.  
The mood in the cabin was upbeat; Jack was reading quietly to Arthur, seemingly happy to share his favourite book with someone who would listen, and Albert was getting to know Abigail as the pair peeled potatoes. He knew a thing or two about cooking, and despite her sometimes stubborn nature, she took his gentle tips on board, thanking him.

"You seem like the perfect match." She commented as she filleted a trout. "I never much liked that Mary he had his eyes set on. She just couldn't accept him how he was, always tried to change him." She paused for a moment. "Hm. Think I might be a bit of a hypocrite there."

"Ah, but remember, Mrs Marston, you have stuck by your husband through very dark times. You clearly love him. And he reciprocates, quite greatly, considering this marvellous house he built for you." Albert put the potatoes in some salted water and set them aside, turning his attention to the peas. "Besides, no two circumstances are the same. Regret is useless when it comes to life. All we must do is attempt to carry on, and to do better."

Smiling, Abigail nudged him. "I like you."

Albert couldn't stop the tips of his ears going pink as he turned back to the cooking, a little smile on his face.

The door opened, and John walked in, hanging up his hat and exhaling as he moved toward Arthur. "See y'all got past the whole bear thing." He said as he unceremoniously plopped down on Arthur like he was a big furry chair, sitting between his belly and the crook of his back leg. "Everythin' okay?"

"Peachy!" Abigail said, and John was surprised at the sincerity in her voice. "You get your letters sent okay?"

John nodded. "Yeah. Sadie will be over the moon, I bet. Charles too. Always speak highly of you, furball."

Arthur grunted, too content to snarl as he might have done, just pressing further into Jack, making him smile and give him a scratch behind the ears.

"Ain't it strange? I mean, that's Arthur, and you're both just sitting on him." Abigail asked.

Albert chuckled quietly. "I don't find it strange. Honestly, I'm the same, and he doesn't seem to mind." On the contrary, Arthur was almost asleep, having to blink a few times every so often to wake up.

Albert showed Abigail how to fry potatoes in just the right way, and the fish was baked after being seasoned, and he did apologise profusely for taking out some things he kept in his bag, namely some pepper, dehydrated garlic, and a little chilli powder.  
"You think I'm hopeless in the kitchen, don't you, Mr Mason?" She joked.

"Not at all, my lady! I simply wish to bring your culinary heart to the surface! After all, what better way to ensnare a man than to feed him something fit only for a King?"

"Or a bear." Jack piped up, smiling as Arthur sniffed at his face.

The door opened, Uncle clearly lured by the smell of the food, and he froze when he spotted Arthur. "...I ain't even gonna ask." He grumbled, sitting at the table.

"Oh, yeah, Arthur can turn into this." John gestured to him nonchalantly, and Arthur nodded, before returning his head to Jack's lap.

"So, when Arthur leaves fur all over the floor, that's fine, but when I do it I'm a disgusting old man?"

Abigail whirled around to face him. "You do a full body shave when you meet some lady in town and I have to sweep it up! It's not the same thing!" She hissed. "Now, lay the table, you lazy bastard!"

"Please, allow me." Albert interjected.

"You don't need to--"

"I insist." He grinned, beginning to set the table for six. It had been a long time since he'd had dinner with anyone he'd consider to be family, but with Arthur's adoptive brother, his wife, their son, and some deadbeat old man, it was worth the effort. He wanted to make a good impression, if not for himself, then for Arthur.  
He helped plating up the food, nimble fingers making sure everyone had equal portions. As they sat down, Arthur now human and fully dressed, Albert held up a hand before they could begin.  
"You all don't seem to be the type to say grace, but would you indulge me? I shall keep it short."

The most he got was shrugs, and he took that as an invitation to say it himself, lacing his fingers. "Thank you for health and food, for love and friends, for everything thy goodness sends, amen."

The returned 'amen' was quick as everyone dug in, and Albert was pleased with how his efforts were being enjoyed.

"I was wondering on my way back…" John began, taking a swig of his beer. "What animals would everyone else be if they got your lucky break?"

Abigail smiled to herself. "Well, we all know Micah would be a rat." She laughed, prompting chuckles around the table. "Pearson would be a walrus. Charles seems like a buffalo."

"Y'think Hosea would've been a weasel?" Uncle asked.

Arthur shook his head, swallowing his mouthful. "A fox, surely. Oh, I'd have loved that. The fun we could've had…"

"I can see Kieran as a rabbit." Abigail suggested. "Real timid."

"What about me?" John asked.

Arthur and Abigail replied 'raccoon' almost in harmony, and they shared smiles at John's displeasure.

"Albert, I think you'd be a vole." Arthur said, prompting a confused splutter from the other man. "You're small, you're cute, you need rescuing all the time, and I just think it would be sweet to carry you in my pocket."

Albert was crimson, and he swallowed hard. "Ah, I see you aim to make a fool of me in front of your family. Don't worry, my dearest, I know how much of a buffoon I am, and I do not intend to dispute it."

"Does he do that often?" John asked. "The callin' himself stupid?"

Arthur nodded. "You could do that too, y'know. Only it would be true when you say it."

"Could still make you into a rug, Morgan."

"Not before you end up on my toothpick, Marston."

Their bickering was back and forth throughout dinner, but soon everyone broke off into their own little conversations. Albert was in a serious discussion about photography with John and Abigail, which they didn’t much understand but were happy to listen to, and Arthur was stealing leftovers from Jack’s plate as he chatted to him.  
“You remember much of the gang?” Arthur asked, chewing on a fish bone absently.

Jack shook his head. “Only a little bit. I remember uncle Hosea teaching me to read. And you taking me fishing. But Pa doesn’t like to talk about them days so I don’t really have anything to fill the gaps.”

“Well, you can write me if you want. If you send letters to Emerald Station, addressed to Albert Mason, I’ll get em.” He smiled, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Just you promise me you won’t get some fanciful ideas in your noggin’ about that being a good life. It ain’t. We was in it because we had to be. And look where it got us.”

Jack nodded, looking at his empty plate. “Okay, uncle Arthur.” He said softly. “Could you send me some of the photographs you took with Mr Mason?”

Perking up at the mention of his name, Albert grinned. “Of course! I’ll pick you out a selection. And please, if you like, you can call me uncle Albert. If not, and I am once again resigning myself to idiocy, you can keep calling me Mr Mason.”

Arthur chuckled, taking Albert’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Hell of a misfit family you’ve found yourself in, Al.” He snorted.

Albert cast a glance around the table, watching John trying to halfheartedly fight Uncle for the last bit of fish, Abigail wiping Jack’s face with a handkerchief and him attempting to push her away. With a smile that spoke volumes, he shook his head, placing his other hand on top of Arthur’s, stroking his skin in little circles.  
“I rather think I shall enjoy being a part of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment :)


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